30 March 2008

Perception


All of our knowledge is tainted with our perception. Everything we know is our perception of it. Perception defines what we see, hear and think. A simple proof of this being, when we are caught in a mirage we believe it to be the truth. If that is the case, can we ever know the truth?

I know a man who believes that the earth is flat. He is not an illiterate or an ignorant man. He believes the earth is flat because he believes in a scripture that says ‘The earth is flat.’ I tried, in vain, to convince him that what he sees is not the scripture but his interpretation (perception) of that scripture.

If everything we know is our perception of the truth, if everything we learn is our perception of the fact, we never will really know anything. Wait,….there is something we do learn. We learn more and more about our perception, our mind, and our thoughts. Come to think of it, to know oneself is the only thing one really needs to know.

The mind trap that keeps us from the truth, takes us to the one place that matters and all one needs to do, is to be aware. Everything we do, everything we don’t, everything we think, everything we like is telling us something about us. We only need to listen.

28 March 2008

The Truth - A Story

There once was a man of moderate means. He heard that, there had arrived a wise man just outside his home town, and decided to visit him hoping to learn something. He set out the next morning towards the hillock where the wise man camped.

On the way, he met a huffing puffing fat man and stopped to ask him directions. The fat man began to curse at the mention of the wise man and so our man walked away and decided to find the wise man himself.

Soon he found the wise man, sat down after making salutations and asked the question he had planned to ask. He asked, “Oh, wise one, what is truth? Where shall I find it?” The wise man replied,” There is only one truth, my child, and that is the word of God.” The man was a little perturbed. He said “But wise one, I have never heard God say anything. I have never seen God.” The wise man replied that in such a case, whatever the scriptures said was the truth. Our man again picked up his courage and said,” But wise one, I am not very learned. I do not know what the scriptures say.”

Then the wise man smiled and said,” There is yet another way of knowing the truth. When in doubt, first close your eyes, pray for a few moments and listen to your conscience. Whatever your conscience says is the truth.” The man was very pleased. This was something he could easily do. He thanked the wise man and was about to leave when, he heard some commotion. A mob was climbing uphill and coming towards them.

The wise man said “Did you notice the greedy looking fat man hurry downhill as you came here? He came to me asking for more ways to make money. I told him that he was a greedy money-lender, exploiting the poor to build his riches and that he should mend his ways. The man instead has instigated the town people against me with lies and is coming here with that mob. Run away to save yourself and I shall do the same.” The man immediately said “But wise one, whatever he said is a lie. You really are a wise man; we can tell the people the truth.”

The wise man smiled and said, “You have one more lesson to learn. What God says is the truth. What the scriptures say is the truth. What your conscience says is the truth, but there is yet another greater truth. What you perceive at that moment as the truth is the only truth. The mob perceives me as a conman; it really believes that is the case. That now is the truth and we have to live with it. Run now my child they are coming.” Saying this, the wise man ran away.

26 March 2008

The Stalker - A Short Story

He ducked and hid his face as she came out of the pizzeria and watched as she walked past with her friends . She had been inside for an hour and a half. He had guessed correctly that she would have pizza for her birthday lunch. He had been trailing her all day.

She had gone to the Ganesha temple after her bath. He particularly liked the orange salwar-kameez she had worn then. Orange was very becoming on her. He had followed her in his car as she walked back to her house. He waited for an hour, eating packed sandwiches, before her friends began to arrive. He recognised most of them. The short girl who lived in the next street. The tall slouchy girl, who, he knew, was the class topper. He knew her cousin as well who came in at last.

She was dressed in jeans and T-shirt like most of her friends, when they came out and her mother drove them to the pizzeria just before noon. He was certain the mother would not stay. As they walked, window shopping, after lunch, he casually drove past only to park ahead and wait. He had followed her around enough to know that she was headed towards the cosmetics shop around the corner. On every festive occasion since her fifteenth birthday, she had come here to buy nail polish. That was two years ago.

She took her time picking the color of the nail polish. As she came out holding a little shopping bag, he was ready with the engine running. They’re right away hailed an auto-rickshaw and set off. He diligently followed. He had no idea where they were headed but he had a tank full off petrol and was prepared for anything. He was little surprised when they stopped before the mall. He parked in the basement and hurried up the escalated to almost bump into her. He casually walked away to watch from a distance. After some wandering, they entered the multiplex. All shows were sold out but he had not anticipated that she had an advance booking. As the girls went into the theater, he went into the food court and ordered a dosa.

As he sat there, he saw several girls off her age with boys. He wondered if she had a boyfriend. He was almost sure that she didn’t. He had trailed her around diligently but he knew girls her age were capable of hiding things if they wanted to.

He returned to the multiplex entrance by the time the movie ended. He did not have to look for her. She always stood out in a crowd. Off late she had developed a womanly beauty but she had been remarkably beautiful ever since he first laid his eyes on her.

The group had some snacks and parted. Some of her friends, he saw, left as she stayed with others a little longer and returned home in an auto-rickshaw. He knew her mother had planned a party for the evening. Her mother did not fancy surprise parties. He parked his car in the neighboring street and walked past the house several times. She did not leave the house all evening, instead had many guests over for the party. He sat in his car and day-dreamed of being in the party. He was tired. He was getting too old for stalking girls. The party was over by 11:00 PM. Of late, he noticed her parties lasted longer. He watched the windows of the house a little longer. Her window did not face the street and he could not get even a glimpse of her. He did not use his binoculars lest the neighbors notice.

It was midnight when he returned to his apartment. He poured himself a neat whiskey and gulped it down in a single breadth. He carried the bottle into the kitchen and emptied it into the sink. That was, as he had promised himself, his last drink. He placed her birthday present on the shelf among the eleven others. They were many dolls and frocks. Not just birthday presents, there also were diwali presents and even a bicycle. Just one more year, he rejoiced. He opened the album he had made and looked through all the photographs. He would have the ones he shot today processed and paste them in the album. As he looked through the album, he could not help but shed a few tears. He had every moment documented every birthday, every diwali, the summer she got chicken pox, her first day in college, everyday. He saw the photograph he had taken in the middle of the night of their house. One window was lit up. He knew she would have nightmares when he had said there three rows behind her and watched “The Ring”. He had sat up in his car outside her house all night long and watched as her mother got up twice to calm her.

Years ago, he had sent her presents by mail. Not only were they returned but also he got a call from a lawyer saying he could not send any presents. Lawyers had a lot to say those days, as did her mother. The judge said little but ended by saying he could not see her again. All that would change a year from today. He could see her when she turned eighteen. The law said so. He would be sober for every single day till then. Meanwhile he would look from a distance as he has been looking all these years.

Man and himself

I recently watched the movie 13 Tzameti and was very impressed. It was quite an experience to watch a truly disturbing movie with no obvious symbolism or indulgent shots. This movie got me thinking of human cruelty.

Cruelty is something very interesting. Everything I ever read speaks of love and compassion. Buddha, Jesus, the Bhakti movement and literally everyone who had some sense have preached love and compassion.

Yet my mind returns to cruelty.

Can man achieve his potential to love without exploring his potential to hate? Can man be truly compassionate without exploring his potential to hurt? How much must a man hate before he comes to love?

I found the answer in Ashoka. Ashoka is remembered for his transformation from a killer to a saint. Would his transformation have truly happened, if he had been any less of a killer? It then hit me …..NO. Is then, hate the path to love?

My mind now raced.

If thousands had to die to transform one man, how many need to die to transform everyone? Man today stands with a million weapons in hand. Man still has the taste for war. I repeat. If thousands had to die to transform one man, how many need to die to transform everyone? Is it even worth a try?

Imee Ooi

I just heard some hauntingly beautiful chants from Imee Ooi on Youtube. You should check it out.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=-c9-XaA2f00
http://youtube.com/watch?v=svYQ3Z1dPEw
http://youtube.com/watch?v=qiAT07i_lus

My first post

I am an aspiring writer and I will be posting my works on this blog.The first post will be a story called "The Stalker". It is a story that I wrote a few months back . I hope you will like it .I am currently writing a story yet untitled about two sisters' visit to a temple. I hope to finish it soon and post it here.